“Stewart is well able to look out for himself, while it is as much as we can do to take care of ourselves,” said Decatur, as he gave orders to claw off the land.
For six days the storm raged. The brig, which had finally been obliged to leave her anchor and cable, managed to keep in company with the ketch, which threatened to founder at every moment. Their provisions were soaked, and in cold and wet and hunger these brave men weathered the gale. But at last, on the morning of the 15th of February, the weather moderated, the wind fell, and a bright sun shone. The ketch and brig found themselves in the Gulf of Sydra. Good weather promising for some days, Decatur signaled the Siren to bear away for Tripoli, and began to make his preparations for the attack.
Toward evening they found themselves in sight of the town, with its circle of forts crowned by the frowning castle. The great hull of the Philadelphia, larger than any in the harbor, stood out in bold relief, her masts and spars clearly defined against the dazzling blue of the African sky. Two frigates, anchored about two cables’ lengths apart, lay between her and the castle, while nineteen gunboats and a few galleys lay near her. From the castle and the batteries one hundred and fifteen guns could be trained upon an attacking force; but the bold tars on the Intrepid took all chances cheerfully, and even gayly. Every man had been instructed in his duty, and the crew was not mustered, for fear of awaking distrust. The watchword “Philadelphia” was passed around. The men quietly took their places below the hatches, while half a dozen officers sat or lay about on deck. Catalano took the wheel, while Decatur, in a common sailor’s jacket and fez, stood by him.
The breeze had become light and baffling in the offing and the Siren, which kept well away from the Intrepid in order to avoid suspicion, was evidently unable to get any nearer until the wind should change; but at the entrance to the harbor it was very fresh, and carried the ketch forward at a lively rate. Decatur saw that his best hope was to make a bold dash then, without waiting for the gallant little brig, which was almost becalmed. At the moment when the steersman made straight for the western entrance of the harbor, Decatur addressed a few last words to his officers and men.